


December 22

by VR_Trakowski



Series: Advent 2015 [22]
Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Advent Calendar, F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VR_Trakowski/pseuds/VR_Trakowski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meeting the icon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	December 22

**Author's Note:**

> Explanation [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5333558).

Three hours later, he was still at the mall.  

Caine hadn’t meant to stay so long, but Jupiter had texted him that her mother had insisted she come for dinner, so she would be late.  He knew that the royal guard assigned to look after her was perfectly capable of keeping watch, but Caine also knew that if he just went home he would end up pacing and doing nothing productive.  

The movie theater offered a distraction.  Jupiter had taken him to see a couple of them, and he’d found them enjoyable enough, though they’d usually ended up kissing through most of the storyline--she’d said it was traditional and Caine certainly wasn’t going to argue.  

This time, alone, he’d watched something animated about saurosapiens; it was a little silly, but it had kept him occupied for a while.  And as he emerged, Caine found the mall quieter--it was close to closing time, and most of the shoppers had left.  

He wandered back towards the way he’d come in, idly glancing at the window displays.  Clothes were clothes the many worlds over, but the places selling stationery and soaps and furniture all looked exotic or primitive to his eyes.  

As he rounded one corner, Caine was startled by the sudden whiff of dog.  He’d grown somewhat familiar with the scent, since Earth people kept them as pets and they were common, but he’d noticed that they weren’t generally allowed in public buildings unless they were employed in some fashion.  This was several dogs, with a few cats mixed in, and at least one other animal scent he couldn’t identify.  

The odors were clustered around the Santa Claus enclosure, though as Caine neared it he could see that most of them were already gone, their scents still too fresh to fade much.  The remaining animals were waiting with their humans, and Caine slowed to observe.  

It was a different Santa.  This man was older, and his beard was real, and as Caine watched he could see that the man was settled into the role as the previous one had not been; subsuming himself beneath the mantle of the icon.  It was having an effect; nervous or reluctant pets grew calmer as they were brought to him, gentling under his hands and holding still for photographs.  

Caine waited as the line diminished, staying back a ways so that his own scent wouldn’t upset the animals, but as the last few dogs finished and left, he drifted closer.  The assistant, a brisk young woman, glanced over at the Santa.  “We’re done, Bish.  I’m going to run to the ladies’ really quick before breakdown.”  

The old man nodded.  “Take your time.”  His gaze flicked to Caine, who was suddenly aware that the man had known he was there the whole time.  “I’m not in a hurry.”  

The woman strode away, and the old man cocked his head, the tail of his hat swinging past his shoulder.  “Are you here to see me?” he asked, and he sounded as if he already knew the answer.  

Caine didn’t often let impulse rule him, but this time he slipped past the barrier to step into the enclosure, tamping down the nervous flex of his wings.  The old man was still seated, and Caine felt too tall, so he dropped to one knee.  

And as he looked up, he saw not a man playing a part, but--a numinosity, as ancient and benevolent as all the stories had implied.  A spirit of generosity and of guardianship, an example to those trying to do their best.  Caine felt as if centuries were regarding him through the old man’s eyes, with all the calm strength of a mountain that cannot be moved.  Tercie world Earth might be, but this was a _power_.  

Caine bowed his head, and a hand settled on it, warm and light.  “What do you want?” came the soft question.  

No one had ever cared what Caine wanted--until Jupiter.  It wasn’t an idle query, but he didn’t know how to speak his desire, his desperate _need_ to be always by Jupiter’s side.  “I want to be hers,” he managed, wondering how he could possibly explain--    

“You already are.”  The voice was gentle, and the hand tilted Caine’s face up to meet those kind, kind eyes.  “Be faithful, and she will return your faith.”  

And the tide that flooded through Caine was joy.  


End file.
